Spinning violence and playing with my heart.
Some have seen rainbows after dark clouds, but have any seen dark clouds behind rainbows, waiting to erupt? What is this place, where skies and the seas exchange places at the slight snap of fingers. Have you heard your own words, your own mind, your own heart? The desires to please and to care morph into bricks that built the stone-cold bridge cemented between two banks of a river.
As always, life never fails to twist at the very last moment, and twist it did, for it always has an edge over you. Two minutes ago, a similar phonecall, (this time not too much as that of an angel's), brought news that crumbled my world into tiny pieces. Try as I might, dear 'ol fate interrupted, not surprisingly but still shocking enough to turn this place into an ugly grey. Like a shagged, starved animal that chanced upon a meat, who could blame it when it pounced in a lightning quick movement, only for it to disappear under its paw mysteriously. The agony prolonged, the seemingly existence of food was but only a hallucination. Or is it so?
The moment the dices were flinged onto the board, the quest for the finishing line gets further as you move your game piece up every block. Like I say, sticks and stones break just my bones, but twists and turns do break this soul.
posted by cigarettelove @ 2:54 AM
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